


Three Words

by ARandomFactoid



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-21 14:50:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7391590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ARandomFactoid/pseuds/ARandomFactoid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saying I Love You is a big step.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Words

Dorian would - _could_ \- never be the first to say it.

There are plenty pretty words enough to convey regard, traded in kind as part of the careful build-up of… whatever _this_ is, or will be, with the Inquisitor. And if the Inquisitor should venture near those treacherous waters? Well, at the not quite half-way point of the very aptly named Dragon Age, self-preservation is its own kind of virtue.

So it’s a surprise, an ambush really. One slow day spent in the Inquisitor’s tower, the only place they can risk of stripping away more than just the armor designed to protect from beasts and steel - Dorian’s shield slips.

The Inquisitor provokes with a witty, wicked, tongue, and although it isn’t a contest, it still feels a victory to have the Inquisitor under him, to surround him, to have him just for himself in another of these stolen moments. Thus distracted, he misses the look that falls over the Inquisitor’s face - the decision is already set in his eyes as the words escape into the air.

It hits with enough force to push the “Amatus” out of his lungs in one harsh breath, and weakens his elbows - making the kiss that follows all the more inevitable. Finally, _finally_ , he says those words out loud, interspersed with kisses tracing a path to where he hides his face in the crook of the Inquisitor’s throat, still bracing against expectation until strong fingers curl into his sides and a soft laugh breaks the silence.

“Dorian, your mustache… it tickles.”


End file.
